Page 20 of Dream a Little Dream

“Mrs. Gray is more important,” I told her. “I’ll handle the turnover. Thanks for letting me know, Lizzie.”

“I will find a way to make this up to you.”

I smiled into the phone. “A skydiver writing my name for all the town to see? I’ve always wanted to seeSavanna Rocksin the sky.”

“We can work out the details later.”

“Don’t let me down.”

After we slid off the call, I assessed my schedule. Check-in time at the Airbnb was any time after ten, which meant I needed to sashay my ass on over there and get to work. The booking was for three nights, taking us into the long Indigenous Peoples’ Day weekend. With most folks off on Monday, the grocery store would be overrun with customers on the hunt for burgers, barbecue sauce, chips, and snack foods of all varieties. Luckily, we were stocked and ready for ’em. I checked my watch, which made me sprint like a maniac to the Airbnb. In record time, I changed the sheets, scrubbed down the kitchen and bathrooms, placed my welcome bottle of wine on the marble countertop, and personalized my welcome card. The coffee carousel was fully stocked, and the remotes were neatly lined up for use in the living room. I placed the keys in the lockbox on the doorknob, leapt into my car, and headed for the market, only ninety minutes late. Not bad, all things considered. I was determined to survive this day. Hell, maybe I’d even turn it around in overtime.

I sang along to my anti-romance playlist that was full of songs about strength and empowerment, with hints of accusation. I was quite proud of myself for leaping into action when Elizabeth called. I carried that same triumphant energy with me to work, moving about the floorlike a seasoned politician among the masses. Smiling, chatting, helping direct our customers to the aisle where they’d locate the cookout foods they sought. “You’ll find the marshmallows on eight,” I told Brandon, my old lab partner from high school. “Grab the ones in the bright blue packaging. They plump better and I’m not even kidding.”

“Hot tip. Swing by the garage soon. I’ll give ya twenty percent off an oil change.”

I actually needed one of those. Brandon was a helpful guy who never forgot that I used to slip him the answers on our weekly bio quiz. “In that case, I’m bringing my car by this week.”

He tipped his Clemson ballcap, which hid the fact that he was losing his hair. Man, time was marching on and dragging us all with it. At least Brandon was married with a family. No.Stop that. I refused to pay attention to that little clock in my head anymore and took pleasure in smashing it to hell with my imaginary baseball bat.

I smiled after Brandon and turned, moving with purpose toward the front of the store, and smacked right into a woman carrying a bag of mandarins in each hand. To my horror, they both split on impact, sending tiny balls of citrus scurrying in all directions like cockroaches when the lights were turned on.

She looked down in surprise, her eyebrows dashing to her hairline.

“I am so incredibly sorry,” I said, dropping to my knees. Maya, who was returning from her break, was immediately at my side, helping to coral the wayward produce. The woman joined us and I realized I’d never seen her before. She had shoulder length blond hair and brown eyes, and seemed to be around my age.

“No,” she said. “All my fault. I was lost in my own world and left the oranges vulnerable to attack. When will I fucking learn?”

I laughed. “Admittedly, I have to stop attacking the produce.”

Once we had the mandarins assembled and wrangled back in their bags, we stood. “I can swap these out for you,” Maya said, taking the busted bags and dashing off toward produce.

“I don’t think we’ve met. Are you in town for the long weekend?” I asked. Maybe this was my new house guest.

“Actually no, I moved to town a little over a month ago, but I’ve been using a grocery delivery service.” She smiled at me. That was meaningful eye contact if I’d ever seen it, and love sucks club or not, I didn’t mind. “I’m realizing my mistake now.”

Well, well.Did that mean what I think it meant? I stood a little taller and noticed we were about the same height.

“In that case, welcome to town. I’m Savanna. The store manager.” I extended my hand, keeping it professional.

She closed her hand over mind. Firm but not too firm. “Nice to meet you, Savanna. I’m Mary Jane, but everyone calls me MJ.”

“MJ it is. What brings you to the Bay?”

“I handle commercial real estate and a friend offered me a job. Did a really great sales pitch on all this little place has to offer.”

A thought dawned on me. “Does that mean you work with Devyn Winters?” I remembered Elizabeth saying Devyn had been working to expand the business when we had martinis the other night at Ronnie Roo’s. Maybe MJ was part of the new team.

“Exactly. Wow. You know Devyn? Small world.”

“Smalltown,” I corrected. “Same high school. Her wife, Elizabeth, is a good friend of mine.”

“Perfect.” Her eyes shone bright. “Then we should all get together sometime.”

“Definitely.”

She passed me a winsome smile. MJ was pretty and appraising me in a manner that pinged my gaydar. Interesting. “I’m serious, though. I’m not just making conversation to be polite. It’s not who I am.” She slid a strand of blond hair behind her ear. I liked her subtle pink gloss. “I’d love to, I don’t know, hang out. Get to know you. Hear more about the store.” She was staring at me happily, both confident and wistful. What in the world was happening? Women didn’t often walk into town and pay this kind of overt attention to me. Then again, we didn’t have a million gay or bisexual women roaming the streets, and straight women didn’t look at me the way MJ was.

I was now aware that Maya had returned and was watching the exchange like the last few points of a tennis match, clutching two bags of mandarins like her life depended on it. “Shall I carry these to the front?” she finally asked, leaping in when I’d let the conversation drop. The problem was my brain was trying to process the fact that I was being hit on in my very store, and my mouth was lagging behind.

---